Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Equatorial Guinea and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Monks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Jacob Miller,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Main Source,
Avey Tare,
Yazoo,
Audionom,
Fela Kuti,
Electric Prunes,
David Bowie,
Mark Hollis,
David McCallum,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Human League,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Mojo Men,
Moby Grape,
Black Pus,
Josef K,
Neu!,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Real Kids,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rotary Connection,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crooked Eye,
UT,
Animal Collective,
La Düsseldorf,
Eli Mardock,
Jerry's Kids,
Deadbeat,
Bill Near,
Drexciya,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Alice Coltrane,
Goldenarms,
Bob Dylan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Public Enemy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Subhumans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roy Ayers,
Scan 7,
The Durutti Column,
Minnie Riperton,
Soul Sonic Force,
Joensuu 1685,
The Divine Comedy,
Tim Buckley,
Ten City,
The Litter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Electric Prunes,
Fugazi,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.